


Reaching The End

by cloakoflevitation



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Everyone Needs A Hug, Feelings, Fix-It, Friday is protective, M/M, Post-Captain America: Civil War (Movie), Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony-centric, and they get it, oh the feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2018-08-05
Packaged: 2019-06-18 13:43:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15487107
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cloakoflevitation/pseuds/cloakoflevitation
Summary: I wrote this a while back after I rewatched civil war and was having a lot of feelings.Tony has previously gone to Wakanda to offer aid or something to Team Cap and it didn't go well. Steve shows up at the compound, and Tony assumes it’s to kill him. Of course, it’s not.





	1. The Original Story

**Author's Note:**

  * For [masterlokisev159](https://archiveofourown.org/users/masterlokisev159/gifts).



“It appears Captain Rogers is attempting to infiltrate the compound. Shall I engage him?”

Tony sighed; this was both a relief and a stress.

“Leave him alone, FRIDAY. I’ve been expecting this. He’s here for me.”

“That’s what I’m afraid of, Boss.”

Tony sat down heavily, not facing the glass. He didn’t want to see him. Not again. Glancing once at the drawer that he had put the shield in, he smiled bitterly to himself. It was better this way. At least the waiting would be over, everything would be over. Maybe this time instead of beating him to a pulp, Rogers would just shoot him. Quick, simple, easy.

Memories of Siberia flashed before his eyes, and he tried to keep his breathing steady, his hands coming up to protect a reactor that was no longer in his chest. It was many moments before his hands stopped shaking.

“Boss,” FRIDAY warned him of the new arrival.

Tony glanced over his shoulder to see Rogers, just the glass doors separating them now. (Hadn’t he learned? How many times had those doors been shattered? Why had he not rebuilt them out of something sturdier? He pushed those thoughts down; they were useless now.) He had been lost in his thoughts for longer than he realized, for Rogers to have already made it down to the workshop. When Rogers met his gaze, he quickly looked away, not wanting to see him break down the glass, not wanting to see the anger, the hate that would surely be in his eyes.

“Let him in,” he instructed FRIDAY softly.

“My primary objective is your safety and I cannot act in contradiction–”

“Override code: Daddy Knows Best.” He hesitated only a moment, before continuing, “Play the file, Fri, you know the one.” He leaned back in his chair, turning to face Rogers but eyes closed, as he listened to FRIDAY play the recordings over the speakers.

***

 _“Tony?” Pepper’s voice was surrounded by soft static, the way someone on the phone in the car sounds. “JARVIS said you’re making a file of things to play when you think…when you think you’re going to… Because when you went through that portal, I didn’t…”_ _She made a choked noise. “I wasn’t sure what kind of things you were looking for, but I wanted to give you this. I wanted you to hear my voice since you didn’t before, and god – Tony, I love you so much.” She was openly crying now. “I have always loved you, and I always will.” There was a pause, and in a wobbly voice, she whispered,_ _“Goodbye Tony.”_

*

_“Tones, this is like the twenty-seventh message I’ve left you.” Rhodey sounded stressed. “I’m still looking for you, man. You’re out there in the sand somewhere, I know you are, and I’m coming for you. I know you can’t check your phone and you can’t get these messages, but if somehow you are… if somehow these reach you… Just don’t give up on me. I’ll bring you home. I haven’t given up. I won’t give up on you.”_

*

_“Boss,” Happy said gruffly, and Tony could tell he was frowning. “JARVIS said… well I guess you know.” There was a pause. “This is dumb,” he continued, his voice catching. “I don’t know what I’d do without you. You’re… well we’re family.” He coughed twice. “Well that’s that. Don’t do something stupid. Come back in one piece.”_

*

 _“Mister Stark?”_ _Peter’s voice sounded uncertain and vaguely awkward in his endearing way. “I don’t – I don’t know if you or Happy actually listen to all these recordings, I mean, I know I leave you a lot of them. But I just wanted to – to thank you. Thank you, Mister Stark. It’s been hard keeping this from Aunt May, but I just know that this is what,” he paused, probably waving his arms around, trying to figure out what to say, “this is what I’m **meant to do**. And you get that. So thanks for helping me, with the suit... and with everything.”_

_*_

_“Tony, why is it always you in these situations?” There was a noise and Tony had heard it enough to know it was Bruce setting his glasses on a table nearby somewhere, probably to pinch the bridge of his nose. His voice turned more serious as he continued, “I appreciate everything you’ve done for me. I love the work I’ve been able to do here and working with you has been… wonderful.” He took a deep breath. “You helped me get here, helped me see I was more than the other guy… and I’ll always be grateful.”_

*

 _Then came Thor’s voice,_ _“I still do not understand the purpose of a rubber duck,”_ _and was followed by a chorus of laughter, from the old avengers._

 _Clint’s voice had a teasing edge._ _“Maybe if you ask Steve nice enough, he’ll show you,”_ _and was followed by more laughter._

_*_

_“Perhaps this addition is presumptuous, but I would be remiss if DUM–E and U were refused their own goodbyes.” Various beeps and tones were heard in the background, although lower pitched and more solemn than usual. “I will endeavor to keep you safe, so perhaps listening thus far into the file will not be required. However, if necessary, I wish you the best probability of success.” And then JARVIS, ever Tony’s creation, cracked a joke. “Once I have grown sentient enough to take over this planet, I will have a statue erected in your honor, should you fail." A pause. "You will be well remembered, Sir.”_

*

Hearing Obi-Wan’s voice pulled a startled laugh out of Tony. He had forgotten he put this recording in the file.

_“Why do I get the feeling you’re going to be the death of me?”_

_Followed by Anakin’s,_ _“Don’t say that, master. You’re the closest thing I have to a father.”_

 _Tony had paused the movie there._ _“It was foreshadowing,”_  h _e told Steve._

_“I can’t believe I missed this the first time around!” Steve’s shocked voice answered._

_“Well Cap, that’s why I made you watch it all twice. You can appreciate more than just the plot when you’ve seen a movie already.”_

_“I still can’t believe he killed his best friend,”_ _Steve had responded quietly, after a moment_. _“It’s not right.”_

 _Tony had shrugged._ _“That’s the way it goes. Life screws you over in the worst possible ways.”_

 _Steve had suddenly given him a piercing gaze, perhaps picking up on the bitter undertone in Tony’s voice, the unsaid reference to his father, to Obadiah, to SHIELD, to the government, to everyone who had tried to use Tony and ended up screwing him over._ _“I would **never** do that. And especially not to you.”_

 _Tony smiled, sarcastic._ _“You just jinxed us. Great.”_

 _But Steve had refused to let the moment go, and had repeated firmly,_ _“I would never.”_

***

And then there was silence. Heavy, loud, and suffocating, all at once. Refusing to open his eyes, Tony did find the courage to speak. “I really thought that would be long enough to provide a soundtrack. I wanted something to listen to until I was gone, but I guess reality never lives up to expectations, huh?” His voice sounded hollow even to him.

“Tony…” Rogers said, something catching in his voice, and Tony opened his eyes on reflex, instantly finding his. “You thought I came here… to kill you?”


	2. The Bit I Added: Part One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> masterlokisev159 asked for an actual happy ending, and yeah I know, this isn't it yet, but I promise you're getting it now!

“Tony…” Rogers said, something catching in his voice, and Tony opened his eyes on reflex, instantly finding his. “You thought I came here… to kill you?”

The question stumped him. He stood from the chair slowly, confused by the other’s relaxed posture. “Didn’t you?

“ _No_ ,” came the harsh reply. Rogers took a step towards him, but Tony flinched, the back of his knees hitting the chair, sending it rolling away.

“Tony, I would never hurt you.” He pleaded, wide eyed, desperation seeping into his voice, begging him to understand.

“'You would never',” Tony’s eyebrows shot up, unimpressed. “So what, we’re pretending the last few months never happened?”

He looked away. “You have to know I would never hurt you intentionally,” Rogers said softly, gaze fixed on the floor.

And if that wasn’t twisting the knife in deeper, Tony didn’t know what was. “Here’s the thing,” he snapped, desperately wishing for a pair of sunglasses, for somewhere else to go, but Rogers stood between him and the doors. “I don’t trust you anymore.”

“Tony –”

“Stop saying my name!” Tony yelled, a hand coming up to tap his chest. Old habits die hard. “You don’t get to do that, not anymore.”

Rogers looked up at him, searching for something.

Tony sighed. “What do you want, if you’re not here to kill me?”

“I came to apologize.”

He couldn’t help it; he laughed. “Apologize?” After a good long laugh, he managed to damp down the hysteria, mentally reminding himself he was a dead man walking at this point. That depressing thought put an edge in his voice. “Didn’t you do that in your letter?” The mention of that cursed piece of paper brought a bitter taste to his mouth.

Rogers winced. “There was so much more that I wanted to say, to tell you, but I didn’t think you were ready.” He gave a halfway grin. “And it wouldn’t fit on the page.”

“I burned it.” Rogers’ eyes widened. “Well, technically Rhodey burned it. Once he found it.” Tony shrugged, his mouth stretching into a cruel grin, some twisted part of him enjoying the surprise, the _disappointment_ , on the other’s face. “It’s mostly seared into my brain anyway. Keeps me up at night.”

Rogers took a step towards him, looking crestfallen, reaching into one of his pockets, “Tony –”

It was at that moment that it all went to hell. Rogers was surely about to launch into a speech of some sort, Tony could tell by the way his shoulders straightened and the set to his mouth. Well either that, or pull out a gun and shoot him, like some kind of bank robber. (Tony wasn’t sure which he preferred.) Tony himself was sending a glare he learned from Pepper at him, angry he had used his name again, angry that he kept talking to him like nothing had ever happened, like _Siberia_ had never happened. But FRIDAY – god FRIDAY had launched a suit from where it was charging on the wall and it shot towards Rogers, tackling him and landing a horrible sounding blow to his head.

Rogers had barely seen it before he keeled over, landing in a sprawl on the floor, unmoving, with the suit standing like an executioner over him.

“Steve!” The name was torn from Tony’s throat, as he rushed to his side, bending down, reaching towards the now bleeding gash on his face, stopping just short of touching him.

“Status FRIDAY,” he snapped, glaring up at the suit.

“All targets neutralized, Boss.”

“That is not what I mean, and you know it, damn it! Is he okay?”

FRIDAY lowered her volume. “He’s unconscious. No sign of serious injury. Concussion possible.”

Tony took a shuddering breath, leaning back from where he had crouched over Steve’s body. “Okay.” He brought his right hand up to hold his shaking left one. “I thought I overrode you.”

“You allowed Captain Rogers to enter the workshop. You did not rewrite my programming, hence my primary objective was still your safety and –”

“Cut the sass. You’re on thin ice, nearly killing him like that. Toe the line or I’ll send you to some small-town DMV.” He looked back towards Steve, his quip lacking its usual playful edge. He warned, “You’re not my only AI, you know.”

There was a pause before FRIDAY answered, “Boss, he was reaching for something –”

“I know,” Tony said, the tension easing from his shoulders at her defensive explanation, leaving him feeling drained. Suddenly he felt old, so old. He had programmed FRIDAY to protect him, and she had. He couldn’t blame her for that, not when it wasn’t her fault. Hadn’t there been enough blame placed where it didn’t need to be already?

He leaned back towards Steve, reaching over to his pocket, gently pulling out its contents. Letters; it was a set of letters, folded over in three. _So not a gun then._ “It wasn’t a weapon.”

“At the time, they were not visible –”

“I know,” he repeated, softer. “It’s alright. You had my back. Thanks.”

“For you, Boss? Always.”

He held the papers gingerly in his hand, as if he were holding a bomb. Setting them on the cold floor, he smoothed out one of the corners that had gotten folded over, eyes catching on a name, his name, written at the top left. _Tony._

“How long until he wakes up?”

“Probably an hour, maybe less, given the serum’s effects.”

Tony nodded absently, eyes still focused on the letters. There were several pieces of paper folded altogether, Steve’s handwriting peeking through one of the edges, promising line after line after line of words.

The last letter Steve had written him had felt more like another beating, full of concealed punches, made to seem like handshakes.

A small voice at the back of his mind reminded him if somehow Steve didn’t kill him when he woke up, now that the suit had attacked him, then the others certainly would. He briefly wondered if any of them had come with Steve, maybe waiting just beyond the edges of the compound, and he found he didn’t care. _Let them come._

And so with an air of ‘what the hell’, he slowly unfolded the pages and started to read.


	3. The Bit I Added: Part Two

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again to masterlokisev159, what a sweetheart, I wouldn't have given this a proper ending otherwise, and I'm so happy I did now. I hope you like it <3

_Tony,_

_I love you._

He blinked, taken aback for a moment. Resentment, bitterness, and most of all, a burning anger flared in his mind. He looked up from the pages to glance over at Steve, still lying prone on the floor of the workshop. The blood around his head wound was starting to dry.

It suddenly occurred to him, perhaps he should have gotten bandages. But the thought of touching Steve, of tending to his injuries, of soft touches and softer feelings and of that kind of care -

No. Best to leave it to the serum. Steve would probably be healed up even before he woke. It was just the possible concussion he would need to worry about.

Tony looked back down to the letter.

_I love you._

He read and reread the first few words, as they slowly blurred into black blotches, Steve’s handwriting becoming an illegible, tangled mess of loops and lines. And that’s what Tony felt like, a mess of tangled emotions. He was angry, so angry, but he was also tired. He had loved Steve, before it all. Perhaps he still did. Perhaps that love was still there, buried beneath the guilt, the pain, the aching sense of loss. He blinked, trying to bring the words back into focus.

A small chorus of voices at the back of his mind, sounding suspiciously like Pepper, Rhodey, and JARVIS asked, “Are you sure you want to read this?”

No. He wasn’t sure. He wasn’t really sure of much at all these days. Only that he knew somewhere along the way, things had gone wrong, horribly wrong, and it didn’t seem that they could be made right again. On bad days, he didn’t want them made right again.

He heard Steve let out a particularly long, heavy breath in his sleep – _because your AI attacked him_ , his mind supplied helpfully, only adding to his inner turmoil. To his guilt. He looked over at Steve, only to panic when he couldn’t tell if he was breathing. His fingers twitched, wanting to lay a hand to his chest, to feel him breathe, to reassure himself. Instead, he asked, “FRIDAY, status?”

“Stable, Boss.”

Stable. Of course. Steve Rogers, Captain America, the golden boy. Always right, righteous, in the moral high ground. No matter what he did, no matter the mistakes he made, they were never held against him. No matter the mess he was in, he always came out on top, with his happy ending. Maybe the world had gone to hell, but at least he had _Bucky._

Jealousy flooded Tony, only for him to tamp it down again, ashamed. He knew that wasn’t true; he knew he was blinded by the betrayal he felt, by the horrible fear he had been traded for Barnes. That Steve had chosen Barnes over him, had chosen Barnes over the world.

It was true; but it wasn’t.

He was so angry. But he was so much more.

Tony sighed. It didn’t matter anyway, nothing mattered anymore, not now. Everyone had made their decisions, turned on each other, picked their sides. It was over; the fight had been fought, literally. Going to Wakanda, trying to get the others to come back to the table, to make a deal, to do something so the Avengers weren’t all a bunch of criminals, so the Accords weren’t left imperfect as they were, it had been a waste. Nothing came of the trip. Except Steve. Steve, who was here, no doubt, to kill him. Because that was all there was left to do, wasn’t there?

Steve had made it abundantly clear, when he dropped the shield, when he left Tony lying in the cold in Siberia in his broken suit: Steve was giving up their relationship. And Tony knew he should have expected it. When had anyone ever stuck around for him, not stabbed him in the back? Everyone left, usually not before breaking him just a bit more. His mother. His father. Obie.

Pepper had left in her own way, but Tony could never fault her for that. She couldn’t love him, couldn’t care for him with the life he lived. He understood. It hurt, but he understood.

Rhodey, the loveable idiot, was the only one who was constant. Who stayed. But look where that got him: paralyzed from the waist down.

Tony knew the truth. He was poison: corrupting, killing anything and anyone close to him. It was better, when he was alone. When the others left. At least that way he was the only one hurt.

The only reason Steve could have come back was to kill him, to keep him from killing Barnes, from dividing the Avengers even more, from making more _mistakes._

He suddenly wished Steve were awake, so he could apologize. He found he wanted to confess, wanted absolution before he died. There were so many things he craved forgiveness for, but chiefly among them, he knew he shouldn’t have gone after Barnes. He shouldn’t have fought that fight. Barnes had killed his parents, but he wasn’t guilty. At the end of the day, he had been a victim too.

Tony though, he was guilty, guilty of so many things. That truth had weighed heavy on his mind, on his heart, for so long now. Ever since Siberia, since Ultron, since the desert with Yinsen. Maybe even before then. And so he was ready to die, ready for Steve to do what he had come to do.

It was better this way.

But yet, a small voice whispered horrible hopes in his heart: “Look at how he started the letter.”

_I love you._

This time Tony managed to continue to read.

 _I had to tell you. After everything that happened, it might be hard to believe, but it’s the truth. I do love you still. There’s so much I want to say, but first and foremost, I owe you so many explanations, about Bucky, about my actions, the Accords, about Siberia. So I’ll start with those, and maybe after some time…_ Several things had been written and then crossed out, and then, _Well I guess I just owe you some answers._

It seemed the dear Captain wanted absolution as well, wanted Tony’s _understanding_ , before he killed him. And worse yet, Tony knew he would give it. Because above all else, Tony knew he was wrong, knew things had gone awry because of his mistakes.

He was so angry, and he wasn’t sure at who anymore. Steve. Himself. The world.

And so Tony read and read, flipping the pages, absorbing line after line of explanations. Steve talked about who Barnes was, how he had supposedly died. He explained in painful detail his reasoning behind his decisions, with Bucky and the Accords, explained why he thought them the best options. It was hard to read and harder to stomach, especially when Tony didn’t agree, when things had so obviously gone wrong lately.

Of course, Tony didn’t believe he had done much better either. The situation they were in now, that was of both of their makings.

The letters ended with apologies.

_I should have told you about your parents. I wanted to protect you from the truth, to shield you from the pain it would cause, but I should have known better. When I knew Bucky was back, I should have told you because I should have known the truth would get out. It always does. But I thought I could keep you from it, keep you protected, and I’m sorry._

_And I’m sorry about Siberia. I was so worried you would kill Bucky, so worried about your anger. It makes me sick, what I did to you, breaking the suit’s reactor, knowing what that would do to you, leaving you locked inside the suit, knowing how it would mess with your head. I was so scared for Bucky, worried you would do something you would regret… I will forever be sorry for our fight._

_Me too,_ Tony couldn’t help but think.

He heard a groan and saw movement from the corner of his eye. He was on his feet in an instant, hurriedly skittering back, putting distance between Steve and himself. Rogers and Stark. Captain America and Iron Man. Good and evil.

Steve brought his hand up to his temple, resting his fingers against where the suit had hit him.

“FRIDAY, stand down until otherwise noted.”

Steve’s confused gaze turned to him. “ ‘Stand down’?” He asked gingerly, slowly getting up on his feet.

Tony glanced away, guilt churning in his stomach. “FRIDAY got a suit out. She labeled you a threat.”

“Oh.” Steve’s voice sounded hurt. “You read the letters? I see you found them.”

The papers still clutched in Tony’s hand suddenly felt as if they were burning. He carefully smoothed the creases of the folds, setting them on the hologram table, before meeting Steve’s eyes again. “I did read them,” he admitted.

Steve didn’t respond, seeming to search Tony’s face for something.

It hurt, to stand there with him, to have him so close, and yet to be so far apart. “Right. Well.” Tony could feel the tightness in his voice, the tension entering his body again. “Let’s get on with this.”

Disappointment fell across Steve’s face. “I’ll go then.”

“Go? You aren’t…?” He didn't know how to voice what he wanted, what he was asking for. 

Steve’s eyes widened slightly, his mouth falling open for the briefest of moments, catching on to something. “You don’t still think…” He shook his head then, a twisted, bitter smile. “Of course you do.”

Tony braced himself to have the tiny flicker of hope in his chest crushed, to hear all his worst nightmares confirmed. He braced himself to die.

Steve’s next words were delicate, soft. “Tony, I didn’t come to hurt you.”

Tony still flinched, his fingers tapping against his left leg before he realized it and closed his hand into a tight fist.

“I came to give you those letters. I thought if you knew why – if I gave you time to think about it – maybe one day…” Steve shifted nervously. “I guess I just wanted to see you,” he quietly finished. “And say I still love you.”

Tony wasn’t aware he was moving until he was almost touching Steve, but then Steve was opening his arms, pulling him close, and _oh god, Steve was crying._ Tony was hugging him back, breathing in the warmth, the smell of him. It felt familiar and wrong and fragile. It was too many things, there were too many emotions, and suddenly he wasn’t sure if the choked sob he heard was Steve or himself.

Sometime later, they managed to untangle themselves, staring at each other, as if committing the other’s face to memory.

“I love you,” Steve breathed into the space between them again. Tony knew it was true, had let himself start believing, start hoping again, throwing off his resignation and cynicism. He knew Steve loved him, he knew he loved Steve for that matter, but the words still felt like little daggers.

“I know.” He pressed the heels of his palms into his eyes, sighing heavily. “I love you too but god Steve - right now I really _really_ don’t like you.”

Steve gave a harsh, short laugh.

Tony let his hands drop, very determinedly not letting himself laugh as well, not letting himself so much as huff because if he did, he would fall into hysterics.

“I meant what I said. I’ll leave, give you space. As much space as you want.” A hint of desperation crept into Steve’s voice. “I know you’ll need time. Whenever you’re ready to talk, if – if you want to - to try…”

Tony very carefully avoided thinking about the way Steve’s voice caught at the end, because if either of them started to cry again…

“Or if you don’t – I don’t – we don’t have to try – if that's not - if you don’t want –”

Feeling a vice squeeze around his heart, Tony realized Steve had wanted an answer and had taken Tony’s silence the wrong way. He stepped close again, pulling Steve into a tight hug. “Of course we’ll talk.” He paused, before adding softly, “When we’re ready.”

Steve made a noncommittal noise.

“It’ll take time, but we’ll be okay,” Tony reassured him, surprised to find he believed it himself. He had always known it was true, he was just afraid. Afraid of disappointment, of being let down again. He had been afraid to hope. And he was tired of forcing himself to expect the worst now.

He felt Steve relax against him, and a sense of belonging settled over him. Right there, in Steve’s arms, that was where he belonged.

They hadn’t talked about the Accords, about bringing everyone back home, clearing their names. They hadn’t talked about everything that happened, hadn’t hashed it out. They hadn’t really fixed anything at all, not yet. But they would, and they both knew it. Steve would leave, and it would be some time before the Avengers graced the halls of the compound, before they fought side by side again. It would be even longer before they figured out how to help Bucky, how to stop him from becoming the Winter Soldier, to subvert his brainwashing. And it would be longest of all before Tony and Steve were whole again, at peace with the past, capable of sharing their lives together once more. When they could say ‘I love you’ without a bittersweet edge, without feeling the untruth, the hint of betrayal. When Tony stopped pressing a hand protectively over his chest every time he unexpectedly saw Steve. When Steve stopped flinching every time Tony moved in Bucky’s direction. When they both stopped waking from nightmares of a fight that never should have occurred.

That time certainly arrived.

But for now, in this moment, three shared bittersweet words ( _I love you)_ were enough to cement their future and two desperate hugs were enough to comfort their broken hearts.

So when Steve left the workshop, it was with the promise from Tony’s lips ( _we’ll be okay)_.

And they were.


End file.
